Optimism
by Flowing Tears
Summary: It's hard to stay optimistic when you're faced with something that can change the course of your life. Not as dark as it sounds. Megs/Screamer. Just a bit fluffy, and now a bit stupid.
1. Optimism

Title: Optimism

Summary: It's hard to stay optimistic when you're faced with something that can change the course of your life. Not as dark as it sounds. Megs/Screamer. Just a bit fluffy.

Genre: Romance/Humour.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: K+. OOCness. Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to my Beta, Francesca Zatnik!

…- Optimism -…

Megatron believes he is an optimistic mech.

Back in the glory days of Cybertron, when he was so much younger, he was a gladiator, and a damn good one as well. The silver mech had had a lot of fans, followers and even stalkers because he was just _good_ at what he did best. Megatron was, and is, a big mech; slower than the standard models, but with thicker armour plating, with quicker reflexes, with greater strength and with much, much more mean ferocity then most of his opponents. Battle exited him, still does. The thrill of fighting a worthy opponent is an indescribable feeling power. To die by the hand of a stronger opponent is a blessing, a right, the way to go, but to conquer that foe and reign victorious is even better.

There were bots he had faced that were just as vicious or powerful as he, or battles where he was forced to fight multiple opponents. It was unfair, but not too uncommon. There was no room for self pity in the arena, where mercy was for the ones that were offlined. The silver mech had to be resilient, and when he was about to face off against a bigger or more powerful enemy he needed to be ready, he needed to _want_ it or death would be the end result: His own death, to be precise.

That necessary optimism hasn't quelled during the centuries of war against the Autobots.

Defeat befalls them during some raids, setting the Decepticons back in this battle. Of course Megatron will rage, of course he will be furious. And he will vent it just the way that soothes him. But after venting, after cooling down and coming to his senses, that hopeless optimism quickly rears itself. If anything, it is good that he, as a Commander, is as confident as he is. With fear, he pushes his soldiers into place, but with optimism, he pushes them with him into battle.

But how is he supposed to be optimistic _now_? This… _this_ is definitely a turning point in the history of this entire war. Who is he, Megatron, to be optimistic when in a few months he will not even be able to join his men in battle? During the last raid he had grown fatigued quicker then during a battle with Optimus Prime, and he hadn't even lifted a finger! He even had his screeching SiC shout the orders for him, just because he couldn't be bothered to move.

Annoyed crimson optics roll to the side, falling on the cause of this… this disaster!

"This is _your_ fault." He growls from somewhere deep in his throat, causing an equally blazing glare to fall on his frame from a short distance away. Starscream glares hard, wings quivering in rising anger. The small, barely there pout on those charcoal lips though, is enough to quell some of the anger Megatron is feeling.

Starscream however, is not soothed in the least.

All Megatron sees is the seeker's slight twitch before the flyer has crossed the medical bay with quick strides of his long legs. The two hands slamming on the side of his berth have the ex-gladiator startle slightly, but his SiC doesn't notice. "Who's _stupid_ idea was it, to interface as often as we did?" He asks through clenches jaws, razor teeth gleaming with every intention to bite and rip. "Yours!" The warlord counters with a raised voice, pushing himself up slightly on his elbows. "And who's even stupider idea was it to merge our sparks!"

Instead of an answer, silence follows. The larger mech grits his own denta in aggravation. They both know whose fault it is, which is why this whole _situation_ is all the more aggravating. "Exactly!" The shrieked exclamation has the silver mech's audios ring. But damn his seeker can be loud.

If Megatron hadn't been in the situation he is now, he would have indulged in a lot of high-grade and would be offline on his berth by now, sleeping this off and away like a bad dream.

Even though high-grade is what got them into _this_ mess to begin with.

Before the silver mech can indulge himself in his other favourite activity, killing at random, Hook chooses the perfect opportunity to re-enter the med bay. The green mech is cautious and very tense, but who wouldn't be when two of his leaders are on the verge of exploding in fits of rage and violence themselves? With Starscream it is always walking on eggshells, as the seeker is, simply put, a walking bomb. The tri coloured mech is as unpredictable as he is dangerous, which is saying something. Megatron, though a lot less explosive, is a lot more violent when he does go off. And unlike Starscream, his fists will cause more then a few dents and chipped paint.

The good doctor eyes the both of the wearily, taking a deep intake to calm his nerves. "You are in perfect health, my lord." He addresses the larger mech, checking the silver behemoth for any sign of resurfacing anger before continuing. "You are a little underenergised, which is normal for someone in your… position." Still no change in the warlord's physique. Megatron's face is calm, calculating even. Even the seeker has yet to move, silently taking in every word.

Hook swallows a slowly forming lump. So far so good. He isn't dead yet, but he isn't out of the red zone either. "This is still the first stage of your carrying cycle, which means you…" The Constructicon snaps his jaws shut with an audible click when the large white mech suddenly bares denta, a clear sign something will be damaged very soon.

There was that word again. That damn word. The medic immediately knows what has gone wrong. He did mention the C-word, which is of course, a deed punishable by death. Sensing he will probably offline anyway, Hook decides to continue. If he is indeed going to die, he might as well do so while doing his job - like a true soldier. "…which means you will be weakened and unstable, as your body is going to adjust to the sparkling now growing in you spark chamber." The medic begins counting down the last seconds of his existence, shuttering his optics in the hope his end will be quick. Megatron can make it as violent and messy as he likes, but Primus let it be quick.

"Is it ok?" Hook on his part actually loses count. The usually scratchy voice was very quiet when the seeker asked. With another intake to steady himself the medic nods. "It's as healthy and strong as can be. For now."

Silence follows. The larger mech is chewing on the answer. He doesn't like this situation one bit, mainly because sparklings produced via sparkmerging are rare, and a mech giving birth to a living, healthy one is ever rarer. This is a war they're in, a war where he cannot afford to be weakened by something that is most likely to offline before it is even born.

The seeker has accepted the answer as well, optics lowered to a blank spot on the berth his Commander is occupying. "Leave us." The order is short and almost soft. It lacks the usual commanding tone of voice Megatron usually possesses, but Hook obliges none the less.

He's just too stoked to be alive.

With the Constructicon gone, the two commanding officers are left to brood on their own. Neither of them speaks for a while.

Between the two of them, Megatron is the one in real trouble. From now on he will need to consume twice the amount of energon he already consumes. And a mech his size already needs a lot more then the average soldier. It wouldn't be a problem if they had the energon to disperse, but they don't. In fact, the warlord had been very busy planning a new raid, but in the last few weeks he had been unwell. The tyrant isn't one to turn to a doctor the moment he feels like sneezing, but especially during the last week or so he was getting more and more exhausted. He is in the med bay right now because he didn't have the energy to simply frag his berthmate, and he can do that lying down while letting his seeker do all the work. Starscream had been angered because the warlord had refused him, enraged because his own overly active libido would not be satisfied, and then outright stupefied in to silence when Megatron finally did give in, only to lack the energy to actually _get going_.

Starscream then took it upon himself to get the larger mech from his berth and in the med bay as soon as possible. Because Megatron not in the mood to frag meant that the warlord must either be too drunk to _get it up_, recharging, fighting or dying. Since the last batch of high-grade they had dried up months ago, and the warlord was clearly awake, and there was no sight of any Autobot within miles of the Nemesis, he must have been dying. The seeker effectively nagged the larger mech to the doctor's office. Yes, nagged. Where Megatron would have slagged the smaller flyer with the over active libido and vocaliser normally, he just didn't seem to have the energy to shut him up this morning; which led to both mechs believing that there _had_ to be something wrong with him.

The Decepticons will need to raid the power plant Megatron had been eyeing _soon_. Problem is, the last time they were on a raid he was tired before they even got there. He hadn't fought that aggravating Prime, and he wouldn't have been able to even if he'd wanted. Thankfully they were in and out like the wind, so there was no need for an actual battle. During the upcoming raid he probably won't be able to participate in a fight at all, leaving the Autobot leader to his own devises. The reason why Megatron is always out to slag Prime is because not many of his own soldiers can take the red and blue commander unless they team up, which would leave other Autobrats unattended.

Things just _have_ to be complicated.

"So what now?" For once Commander and SiC are on the same page. Both confused, both unsure what to do. Starscream fixes his lord with a questioning stare but doesn't receive an answer. The silver mech remains silent for a moment longer before drawing an intake through his vents. His systems are running colder due to lack of energy. He will need to get some energon soon, lest he shuts down.

High-grade passes his CPU, drawing a cruel little smile at the edges of his mouth. He does have a little stash in his own quarters for celebrations - or moments like _this_. Starscream knows this, and his seeker will have none of it. "Absolutely not!" The smaller mech screeches with indignity, startling the other. "Not when you're carrying!"

"What?" Megatron's turn to be dumb folded. "You are not killing whatever processors you have left by drinking high-grade!" The seeker snarls, jabbing a long claw in the tyrant's face. The claws on that hand jerk tightly when the ex-gladiator grabs the slim wrist of the seeker with a painfully tight grip. Megatron growls with rekindled anger, pulling the now protesting seeker as close as possible. With a pained squeal the smaller mech finally falls still, feeling the armour and cabling on his wrist caving in under the pressure. "What I do, is my decision."

"But you'll hurt the sparkling." A small hand encircles the grey mech's wrist, jerking at it to try and get it off. The SiC mewls when the larger mech grabs him by the throat and pulls the flyer in. He looks intimidating even when still lying down on his back. "It is going to die anyway." Starscream's optics burn up with fury and another emotion Megatron _doesn't_ want to recognise. "You don't know that!"

"It will vanish soon enough." The tyrant repeats, releasing the flyer who stumbles backwards with a yelp. The loud clattering of metal that follows is greatly pleasing to the warlord's audio receivers. "You can't just do that!" His SiC screeches from his rather undignified spot on the ground. Megatron ignores him in favour of getting to his peds, but not without swaying. The exhaustion hits him but he refuses to show it. Instead he fixes the seeker with an angered glare. "What I choose to do with my sparkling is my problem."

"_Our_ sparkling!"

The large mech halts in his movements, currently stunned. "It's fine now…" His winged berthmate finally moves from his sitting position on the metal floor after his soft statement. But instead of standing, instead of screeching and shouting he shifts to sit on his knees. The position is particularly surprising. "Please…" The tone in the seeker's voice is pleading and near desperate. It is a tone Megatron has heard a million times over. Looming over the battered, bleeding form of his defeated SiC after yet another round of punishment. To hear it now, when he is yet to inflict pain on the seeker's lither frame is quite a shock.

"We can…" But whatever the rest his seeker begins babbling about is lost to the other 'con. The tyrant leans back against the berth he had been recently occupying. A small warning flashes in the corner of his eyes, crying out about a steady rise in temperature, and it isn't the good kind of rise.

Surprisingly cool claws suddenly cup the sides of his heating face, but instead of jerking away in angered shock the silver mech leans in slightly. He barely suppresses a groan when the seeker's cool chassis presses against his own hotter one. "Come on." The same cool chassis leaves his own much to the tyrant's disappointment. But instead of protesting the seeker's leave he follows right behind.

The corridors of the Nemesis are a lot cooler then the med bay, a welcome experience as far as the warlord is concerned. But instead of going to the rec room Starscream pulls him along, back to the upper levels of the battleship. Megatron finds himself back in his quarters before he can really care to think about it, and in another flash the seeker is gone.

With that, he is alone. Alone and stuck in this fragging silence. Megatron doesn't like the silence one bit. It means he can think, without being interrupted. Normally, when he plots and schemes he enjoys the quietness with a passion, but not now. Not when he is plagued by this… _this_!

With a huff through his intakes the silver Commander shuffles to his berthroom, taking a seat on the edge of the surface. The downside on this whole event is the physical weakness and instability the new spark will cause to its carrier. It will act like nothing more then a leech, sucking on its creator's life energy for months before it has gathered enough mass and outgrows the already crowded sparkchamber. It will be transported to a body of its own, created out of tiny pieces of scrap metal found, and often stolen, from its carrier beneath the spark chamber. Not enough would be taken to damage a creator, but the period of exhaustion would come for a second time and last until the sparkling's body was completed and readied for birth. In the mean time everything will be more complicated to do, as the process takes energy. A lot of energy.

He can just imagine himself facing off against Optimus Prime, and then calling a time-out just so he can purge his tanks. Although knowing that Autobot sap, Prime would probably be patting him on the back while he did so. _"That's right. Just let it out."_ His nemesis' voice rings through his CPU, causing his chassis to jerk with an amused snort.

Absently stroking the plating covering his spark, Megatron releases another sigh through tiring vents. He casts his optics downwards, to the spot he is caressing.

A few times in his long and turbulent life he had entertained the idea of becoming a creator; of having a few little mechlings and femmes trotting around, and a mate to watch over them. They would have his strength, and his mate's looks. Yes, having a family would have been fun, had the circumstances been different.

Like… not being in a war. With enough energon to actually sustain them.

And _he_ not being the carrier to begin with!

Primus has a sense of humour if _he_ is the one carrying. Surely, every mech and every femme is build to be able to carry a sparkling. Every singe individual is build to reproduce and sustain a newspark. But the spark's carrier is _not_ a chance selection. With bonding formers, the sparkling is usually attached to the spark of the weakest carrier, so that the _sire_ can function at full capacity to uphold, protect and support the _carrier_.

Not always of course. Obviously not always!

Primus has a stupid sense of humour…

Megatron onlines his optics again, not sure when he had turned the function off. Above him, dangling from a petite hand is something he suddenly has a very strong craving for. Megatron doesn't even like the damn treats, but now he can't seem to refuse it. "I figured you would like it." The smug smirk on his Aerial Commander's face would have enraged the gladiator, had he not been chewing on his now favourite treat ever.

When he encounters Primus, Megatron is going to stab the slagger in the face…

"It was the last rust treat we had…" Starscream helpfully informs _after_ he inhales the treat. Pulling a face, the seeker needs to duck the arm swinging his way. The seeker is always quicker, especially now.

But the ex-gladiator loses his temper again when presented with a great alternative. The energon cube is empty before long, and the second opened not soon after. The rush of fresh energy is very welcome to the tyrant's tanks. He growls in appreciation, finishing the second cube with an appreciative glance at his smaller berthmate. It is the closest Starscream will get to a 'thank you'. The stare back is the closest thing Megatron will get to a 'you're welcome'.

Even with the rush of fresh energon in his tanks, exhaustion clamps down hard on the silver mech's chassis. He leaves the empty cubes to idle by the side of his berth while he moves back, lying down in the middle just so he can relax and get some recharge. Hook wasn't exaggerating when he said the swings would become turbulent. He throws an arm over his optics, blocking out the light as he off lines them. It doesn't really work like this, but he enjoys the position. Unexpectedly, he feels his seeker's presence closing in, and soon enough straddling his waist.

Overactive libido or not, Megatron is getting to recharge. "Do whatever you want, don't wake me." He grumbles, refusing to move further. He isn't sure if he caught the chuckle right or not, but he is beyond caring when the smaller mech begins rubbing his chest plates, adding just the right amount of pressure to make the tense cabling underneath relax. Megatron allows a rumble to escape his vocaliser, onlining his optics and removing his arm to stare at the seeker, who is fixing him with a calculative stare.

"If it survives…" Starscream begins, hesitating slightly - enough for the other mech to notice it. "…It will be a great feat. We need more of our kind in general." That, at least, is true. With only a handful of bots on either faction, any added number would be a blessing from primus himself. Casualties come with the days of war, and without any new sparklings there must come a time when one faction will be whipped completely, simply because they don't have the numbers to sustain themselves anymore.

The silver mech finds himself agreeing.

"Besides. If we're lucky, it will look like _me_." The seeker adds, sitting straighter on the warlord's thighs and smiling proudly. Vanity, thy name is Starscream. It takes a lot, but Megatron manages not to snort again. "Let's not forget your _sense of humour_." He jabs, and it has the desired effect. The flyer needs to be taken down a notch, again, and he is more then happy to slam him from that throne, _again_. A pout slowly adores the smaller mech's face, and the way his optics dull slightly tell the tyrant that it. Is. On. "Or your cuddliness."

"Your patience."

"Your cleaning habits." With a defiant gleam in his optics Starscream brushes a hand over the other's plating, digging a slim finger in a deep seem and dragging it up. The warlord growls when sensitive wires flare to life, only to have the feeling leave him again. With a great deal of pride Starscream retracts his finger and examines it before showing it to his leader. It is coated in a thin layer of grey and brown filth. Of course the seeker has to dig his claws in one of the seems that are so hard to reach for the warlord's own bigger fingers. "Your paranoia."

"Your stupid face!" That makes the silver mech bark out a laugh. The little game quickly ends before it is taken too far as they both fall silent again. That silence doesn't appeal to Megatron at all. It forces him to acknowledge the annoyance and aggravation of this situation. The whole prospect of not being able to fight because he is carrying sets the silver mech back in a grim mood once more. What is a gladiator that can't fight? A carrying cycle is a delicate process that takes a fragging long time, time he can't effort to lose. This is a war. "I hope it has your voice." The seeker suddenly adds, sarcasm and spite gone from his scratchy vocaliser. It halts the other's gloomy thoughts for a moment, stopped like a car screeching to a halt. Small claws run over the silver mech's abdominal plating, making the circuits underneath relax.

"We got through worse didn't we?" And in all honesty, they have.

Maybe it is for the best they keep it. For now. It was as Hook said, the sparkling is strong, pulsing happily inside his own spark chamber and greedily leeching off his energy reserves. "Alright." He begins softly, his mate's optics going a little wider in anticipation. "It is worth a try." The seeker's lips slowly quirk into a smile, an actual, genuine, non-sarcastic, non-defiant, non-mocking smile. "Thank you." Just a soft whisper, barely loud enough for the other to hear. The seeker lowers himself further, placing his lips on his lord's lips in a soft kiss.

Sensing they are done talking Megatron flexes his claws again, digging them in the seems on his seeker's hips. The smaller mech jolts before getting comfortable, lying over to rest on the larger body. Small claws reach for the tyrant's chest again, but this time sharp fingers dig in to the seems to tease the ex-gladiator's hot spots. The silver mech releases a growl before harshly nipping on his seeker's lips. Starscream parts his lips with a muffled moan, allowing the other to deepen the kiss.

With rekindled energy, this could have been the start of something fun. However, what Megatron had in mind, and what Primus had in mind, were two completely different things. Instead of letting them have fun, the couple is disturbed in the most undignified way possible.

A shifting in energies in the air, followed by a loud and happy screech caused by the new seeker in the room, followed by an even _louder_, even _happier_ screech right above him has the silver mech's audios ringing. _Again._ Even worse is his seeker's weight lifting from him before he has a chance to stop him.

Starscream is with his teleporting wingmate in the blink of an optic, both nearly in hysterics over the possibility of a new addition on the way in the faction.

"Oooh I hope it's a femme." The purple seeker croons, and if Megatron's moods swung before this began, they will grow into a catastrophe of colossal proportions soon enough. He almost kills someone when Starscream croons with his trine mate, absolutely _loving_ that idea. They begin to screech in that down right awful seeker chant, high pitched squeaks and rattling squeals following each other up in short order, quickly causing a slow pounding to start in the warlord's processor.

This sparkling better be fragging gorgeous.


	2. Reasonable

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: T for hints of naughty things being done. Fluff. Language. Violence. OOCness. Rating upped! Not to be taken too seriously anymore. Currently Un-Beta'd!

A/N: I didn't really plan to make this into a multi chapter story. Oh well… do enjoy this update. I know I did.

…- Reasonable -…

Megatron believes he is a reasonable mech.

This fact has been proven a million times over thanks to a certain backstabbing Second in Command. How many times has he proven to be a very reasonable leader? Time and again, for countless vorns Starscream has attempted more assassinations then Megatron cares to remember. And he has, time and again, punished the wild seeker for his actions. In all fairness, Megatron has had every right to simply offline his Second. At least a billion times.

But he hasn't.

Every time that he had the seeker trapped and punished and begging for his mercy the tyrant had relented and spared his favourite little traitor so that in time Starscream could repay him for his generosity.

So in all fairness, he believes he's very reasonable right _now_.

"No! Let go of me!" The shrieking of his SiC is hurting his audios and sends a painful throb through the gladiator's processor with every pitch it makes. Starscream is trying to kick him in the knees with powerful legs and bite him with sharp denta, but Megatron keeps him trapped in his arms, causing the other to flail aimlessly. It's during times like this Megatron is glad he is that much bigger then the seeker. Now his SiC can only snap at his face with razor teeth, barely missing his chin if the larger mech keeps his head high enough.

A carrying mech goes through several stages during the long, long cycles he is with child. The emotional aspects of the carrying cycle vary from mech to mech. One can become very emotional, while another might not be affected at all. With glitching carriers, like Megatron, some emotions might not be sending through correctly, causing them to barely experience these emotions, while others are filtered through with more vehemence then is necessary. If this is the case, carriers will often be 'stuck' in the emotions they _can_ experience.

Megatron, thankfully, has only two emotions. The Decepticon warlord can either be deeply pleased with what is going on, or angry.

Right now, Megatron's default emotion seems to be anger, making him a little more violent then usual.

"Stop squirming." He grinds out, getting more aroused then is appropriate by the way his seeker is moving against his chassis.

During the carrying cycle, creators interface and/or merge their sparks more often. The carrier enters a so called _bonding cycle_, which is in many aspects the same as a heat cycle. By interfacing and spending more time with each other, the bond between creators is strengthened so it will be solid when the newspark is born.

The silver mech lowers his head and snaps at the other's lips, keeping Starscream trapped with his own denta. His seeker screeches again, the sounds muffled when Megatron slams their mouths together and rubs the smaller mech's glossa with his own. A rumble escapes the carrying gladiator, his spark acting up in wanton desires again. When Starscream manages to break the kiss Megatron just lifts the seeker a bit higher in his arms, the seeker barely able to touch the ground with his peds. His SiC can't do much else then snarl with indignant arousal when his larger mate runs his lips and sharp teeth over the seeker's neck, forcing the snarl to turn into a purr.

Then Starscream remembers what he is supposed to be doing. "Stop it! I have a million things to do! We have to be ready for the Autobots! And I'm still _sore_ from last time!" Volatile as they are, even seekers can get enough of the nasty. "I'm not a machine fraggit!"

Technically, he is a machine, but we'll not get into that right now. For the sake of the plot.

With a growl Megatron slams the seeker into the ground with a little more force then necessary, but the tyrant is a little too pent up to care. With a loud clang and an even louder screech Starscream ends up in an awkward position at his feet, fearfully staring up at his lord. Megatron stares the smaller mech down, telling him with his furious glare that this is going to happen. Another possessive growl emits from the tyrant's vocals, and Starscream isn't sure if he should become scared or aroused.

So he settles on both.

Megatron, with heightened senses notices the change in his Air Commander and rumbles again, optics travelling over the seeker's body with appreciation shining in them. After taking in every inch that belongs to him the warlord locks his optics with the flyer's, lips parting in another snarl when anger and arousal brew anew. The next command that leaves his vocals has the seeker shrink back into the ground.

"Spread 'em."

Isn't he just a charming coat of rage and hormones?

Meanwhile, Soundwave is outside and trying to keep an eye on everyone. Thankfully, he is feared enough amongst the ranks to scare the working Decepticons on the ground into submission. He is having a bit more trouble keeping the seekers in the air on their toes. Without Autobots to fight and keep them occupied, the two trines simply irritate each other. It's no secret that the Coneheads want to take the role of Command trine so they constantly bother the two members of the current Command trine. Thundercracker and Skywarp keep them at bay, but without Starscream in the air the seekers will just frag about until a real fight begins.

For everyone else, meaning the grounders and the remaining flyers in the air; if they don't do what Soundwave wants, the TiC will simply sick their very hormonal overlord on them. Megatron might be 'busy' now, but when he is done and has had his much deserved and much needed nap, he will revert back to being a heavy, angry, _hungry_ carrier. And Starscream will be too worn out and sore to act like his leader's favourite punching bag, meaning _someone else_ will have to fill in for the tri-coloured seeker. And the TiC knows when to start running long before others know.

Soundwave himself inwardly cringes and cuts his psychic link with Megatron when the Decepticon lord gets down to business, _again_. In his own opinion, the TiC highly believes this is neither the time nor the place to interface. Then again, it was quite a feat getting _here_ without their lord exploding in a fit of rage. Soundwave has witnessed his lord jump his mate in the air once and try to interface with the SiC while freefalling. And that was once too many.

He releases air through his vents in a quiet sigh. The last few weeks have been _difficult_.

The TiC eyes a group of 'cons going back into the main building of the factory to get more cubes of raw energon. Turbo engines roar overhead, signalling one of the seekers flying over and checking the domain. It's Skywarp, the psychic can tell. They probably have _him_ to thank for the astonishing obedience coming from the rest of the army. It has been ages since the Decepticon army functioned as well as it is doing now. Normally, the Constructicons would do half of their work over energised. Normally, the seekers would seek their fellow flyers out and flirt in the air. Normally, they would act like a bunch of uncontrolled lunatics trying to steal as much energon as possible before making a break for it after getting their afts handed to them by the Autobots. But thanks to the purple and black teleporter, nothing like that has happened yet.

Three minutes.

On that fateful day two few weeks ago, it had taken Skywarp exactly three minutes to inform their entire faction that their lord was expecting a sparklet _without_ the use of the communication links. And Megatron being Megatron, no one had dared to say something negative about it. Lest they wanted to get a fist to the faceplates. Not that Megatron had any reason to become aggressive towards anyone as most 'cons seemed to be rather positive when they received the news. Sometimes, Soundwave feels deeply smug because he can read another bot's mind.

A loud keen echoes from the building behind the TiC, momentarily halting his thoughts. Wearily, the Third turns his visor to the grey building behind him, where his Commanders are… going at it. If Starscream is getting louder, it means they are nearly done.

Yeah… fantastic…

Soundwave is _happy_ he knows this…

Inside the building, hidden from prying optics, one mostly silver mech collapses on top of a smaller, tri-coloured one. With vents still overworking Megatron lowers himself onto the heated body of his mate, finally sated and feeling some of the tension leaving his aching wiring. Starscream wriggles a little bit beneath him, trying to recover from the rough interfacing, trying to find his voice but his strained vocaliser has seen better days. More pressure is added to the seeker's sore back, wings and chestplates when the other gets comfortable on top of him. They have recharged together often enough, but that was with the seeker on top of the gladiator. Reverse their positions and Starscream wound be a very flat seeker by the time Megatron would wake. "Meh… Mega…" But the seeker is interrupted by the ominous sounds…

…of snoring.

Lips part to release a screech of fury, but that is the time the seeker's vocaliser breaks down with a distinct click and whirr. Starscream can scream and bitch all he wants, and does so for a good few minutes. The soft clicking of his vocaliser isn't waking the larger mech. The flyer lowers his legs from the other's hips, feeling the strain on his hips and lower back. He struggles his arms free from beneath the tyrant's large bulk, placing a hand on each large shoulder and pushes. Megatron moves an inch, maybe a little more, but that is pretty much as far as the tyrant goes.

A rumble escapes the large mech, puffing hot breath over the smaller mech's neck. Starscream inhales deeply and tries to push the other mech over, just to get him _off_ so he can get outside and see how Soundwave is doing. Slowly but surely, the large mech begins to move inch by inch. Just when the SiC readies himself to shove and throw the mech off, Megatron moves in his recharge and breaks whatever concentration Starscream had. Something inside of the seeker gives when the weight once again lowers on his light body. Frustrated clicks leaving his vocaliser, the smaller 'con curses his leader in every language he knows. If he is going to be crushed to death by the mere sleeping form of the Decepticon lord, he will offline while cursing the bastard to Pit and back.

All the while, the gladiator remains blissfully asleep.

After a little while Starscream tires himself out, but he isn't giving up this easily. What any normal mech would do is switch their communicators on and call for help. But he still has his pride, and the seeker refuses to contact anyone about his situation. What will he tell them? That he and Megatron just had it off, which by the way is _not_ a secret anymore? And that he needs someone to haul the silver warlord off his chassis, because Megatron fell asleep after his climax, oh and that he is, _by the way_, still sheeted inside of the smaller mech?

Abso-fragging-luteley not!

With a hiss the seeker relaxes, deciding to wait this one out, blissfully unaware that from the shadows, a pair of mischievous little Casetticons sneak out under the cover of darkness.

Outside, Soundwave shoots one of the attacking Autobots down, trying to lead Decepticons to defend the factory and their precious stolen cargo. Thankfully, their enemy focuses on the factory itself, thinking Megatron might be inside and waiting for them. Soundwave tries contacting either of his Commanders, but with no such luck. No response whatsoever, meaning he will have to deal with the Autobots himself.

The double pitter patter of tiny peds make their way towards the brooding mech.

Turning sharply, the TiC feels dread settle in the pit of his spark when the little cassettes emerge from the very building his Commanders were… going at it…

"Boss bot!" Frenzy cheerfully calls out, secretly loving the shocked feelings coming from his creator. "What we just saw… wow…" Rumble points out, grinning madly at the large Decepticon. The twins begin to antagonise their creator with details of what they saw. Although they know what Megatron and Starscream were doing, they love to tease the psychic, since Soundwave is still rigorously convinced of their pure innocence. Many excuses flip through his processor like the pages of a book, but the more Soundwave thinks of, the scarier the feeling in his spark. He's already used _all_ of them, and he can't think of some new excuse.

Megatron and Starscream were trying to exercise. Did that one! Megatron was helping Starscream find an optical lens. No! Megatron fell on top of Starscream. No, he's used that one four times now! Starscream fell, and Megatron was trying to help him up. Oh please, not even Soundwave believes _that_ one. They were dancing…!

…really Soundwave?

"Hey… boss?" The twins fall silent, noticing the state of mind the TiC has entered. Rumble turns to his brother, a little bit concerned for the large mech's wellbeing.

"Think we went too far?" His twin stares at him. "Naah. He's fine."

The twins turn their optics back to their large creator, just in time to see an even larger bot slam into the TiC. The Prime, accompanied by three of his men easily overpowers Soundwave due to the psychic having a mental meltdown.

The commotion isn't lost to he trapped seeker inside of the building. Starscream pushes himself up as far as he can, trying to peek over the large silver shoulder at the only entrance of the room. Or course, they are uberly big robots and can slam themselves through the puny stone walls if they want to, but the seeker has more important matters to attend to. His intakes stall for the slightest of moments when his audios pick up a sound over the snoring and purring of his mate.

Someone is coming.

Two someones!

When the seeker picks up on their _Autobot_ signals he begins to wriggle again, pushing against the broad shoulders with his hands and managing to sort of move his mate. Something in the seeker's back gives in again and he feels something else crack. A loud click leaves his throat but his mate simply refuses to move. Starscream lowers his head on the ground with a rather harsh thud and offlines his optics. Someone shoot him _now_.

"Did ya lose an optical lens?" Oh…

Oh…

Too low.

All Starscream manages to do is glare from behind the wide, silver shoulder. The Autobot spy Jazz, who made the comment just now, whistles as he stares at the pair of 'cons still wrapped around each other on the concrete floor. The other, much smaller Autobot Bumblebee circles the pair for a bit, confusion shining in his bright blue optics. "What do you think you're doing?" He tries to intimidate the Decepticon Commanders, his voice losing power because of his bewilderment. "They're dancing." Jazz helpfully informs, unable to keep the laughter from his vocals.

"Alright you two, out and up." The larger Autobot steps closer to the pair, gun pointed at the large silver mech. Starscream nearly freaks when the 'bot gently nudges the warlord with a ped. Not enough to wake Megatron, thank Primus, it just causes the tyrant to mix a purr into his snoring. Frantic clicks begin to leave the seeker's broken vocaliser when Jazz nudges the grey mech again. The Autobot is quite humoured by the clicking, but the anxious waving of Starscream's free arm concerns him somewhat.

_Don't wake him!_ The seeker is pleading, _pleading_ with his bright red optics. _Don't wake him!_ With this one beseeching stare Starscream hopes, begs to Primus himself they don't wake his mate. Megatron is a difficult mech that, when denied of his little in between naps, will fly off the handle like an atom bomb. Jazz has enough insight to know when something is wrong but unfortunately, his younger companion doesn't get the hint.

A very loud clang in the form of a kick to the warlord's upper leg disturbs the peace and tranquillity. Starscream falls deadly silent, hand still outstretched in mid-wave at the Autobot spy. Ruby optics flare up in cold fear when the ominous rumble escapes the Decepticon lord's vocals. Fury, indescribable fury cascades from the tyrant's form in waves that almost burn the seeker's sensitive wings. With a strangled noise escaping him Jazz pulls his younger companion backwards, creating distance between himself and the onlining Decepticon warlord. Starscream in his turn, pretends to be dead.

Blazing bloody optics online slowly, anger vibrating through the silver mech's chassis. Megatron growls as his mood setting turns to anger again.

To make a long though very interesting and exiting and thrilling story short, the slag hit the fan.

About half an hour has passed, and Megatron has yet to calm down. He screams insults and disparagements at the Autobot Commander on the ground, yelling that Optimus had no right to disturb a _carrying_ mech from his recharge cycle. The Prime, torn between strong confusion and great terror, has yet to try and defend himself while Megatron pummels into him with an arm he tore from the Autobot Second in Command. Other Autobots have taken cover, unsure if they should intervene or not. Some would say not, seeing as the two faction Commanders always go at it.

No matter how weird _this_ situation is.

On the other side of the factory, looking down from a protracting ledge several Decepticons look down on the strange display that is their Commander beating another with an arm.

"Shouldn't we… do something…?" Skywarp questions out loud when a particularly obscene comment leaves the tyrant's vocals. "Estimated time of Megatron calming down: Ten minutes." Soundwave calculates, having recovered from his little break down. A frizzing processor is so not fun to have. He will have to give his little cassettes a very good talking to when they get back to base. "That's what you said ten minutes ago. And twenty minutes ago…" Skywarp retorts, grinning up at the psychic and flicking with his wings. The TiC is not very pleased with the teasing tone of voice. "Suggestion: Frag off."

Standing amongst them, Starscream has yet to say anything even though Hook just finished repairing his vocaliser. For the millionth or so time since Megatron entered his bonding cycle.

At his place as right wing, Thundercracker is the first to begin reasoning with his mate and leader. "Starscream…" The large seeker softly begins, drawing the attention of his Air Commander. Weary red optics turn to him, and Thundercracker feels bad for his trine mate. "_You_… need to get down there…" He stops right there, letting the words linger for a bit. Everyone there knows _what_ Starscream will have to do in order to stop his mate from destroying the other Commander's sanity with what is left of an arm. The tri-coloured seeker turns his gaze back at the two Commanders and sighs, wings drooping and nervousness taking over. His intakes hitch once in half a sob, and his trine, Hook _and_ Soundwave feel bad for him.

Thundercracker takes a step forward, putting a hand on the seeker's shoulder and forcing his trine leader to look at him. Skywarp fidgets on their left, optics darting between his trine and Megatron still shouting at the top of his vocaliser. "You need to… _distract…_ Megatron…" The seeker's deep voice isn't soothing, not like it usually is. Starscream stares at him for a bit longer before fluids well up in the corners of his own optics.

"I don't want to!" He wails, flinging himself in the arms of his large trine mate. Sobs and incoherent wails escape the tri-coloured seeker's vocaliser, about how they just went in the grey building next to the factory, about how he is sore in more places then he cares to name, about how he really doesn't want to anymore.

"No I don't want to! I just faced with him! Nooo!" He screams and kicks while he is forced down the hill and to his fuming mate by the two seekers and the Decepticon TiC.

Left behind on his own Hook stares straight ahead. He calculates it will still be a long time before the sparklet is created. _Long_, he knows, and he feels sort of sorry for his Air Commander.

When will it be a good time to tell Starscream that Megatron's behaviour will only get worse in the upcoming months?


End file.
